Travesty (Season 4, Episode 14)
by bionic4ever
Summary: (Season 4, Episode 14) With Michael's trial looming, he'll do anything to escape...and to get to Jaime. When the worst happens, can Jaime use only her wits to survive - and can Steve find her in time?
1. Chapter 1

**TRAVESTY**- Season 4, Episode 14

Chapter One

''I'm being denied _Due Process_!'' Michael shouted the second he entered the judge's chambers for a pre-Tribunal reading of the case. Jack Hansen took one of the shackled man's arms and Oscar took the other and they put him into his chair with possibly a little more force than was necessary. ''I've been denied access to an attorney, beaten while these men looked the other way -''

''Mr. Marchetti -'' the judge began.

''_Doctor_ Marchetti, thank you. The charges against me have yet to be proven, so I still retain my rightfully earned title! And I demand my right to a jury trial - a trial before my peers - _with an attorney _for my side, instead of only one for my persecutors!''

''Mr. Marchetti, you're out of order. The _Prosecutors_-''

''Persecutors, Your Honor - in this case, they are solely persecutors!'' Michael shouted.

''Mr. Marchetti, you're not helping yourself here today,'' the judge pointed out. ''And if you continue in this manner, you will be removed.''

''Your Honor,'' Michael persisted, struggling to his feet (and nearly tripping over his own shackled ankles), ''if I don't speak for myself, then no one will! And this is a gross travesty of justice, if you allow it to continue! The conditions they're holding me under are inhumane - and _they _themselves are even more inhumane!''

''Remove the defendant,'' the judge declared firmly. After Michael was led away by an NSB Security team, the judge looked squarely at Jack and Oscar. ''Is it true that this man has not met with an attorney?''

''Yes, Your Honor,'' Hansen replied, ''but -''

''Even with a Tribunal, he's entitled to a defense, however limited.''

''Your Honor,'' Oscar tried reasoning, ''in addition to the charges detailed in the report you have before you, we're investigating the possibility that Doctor Marchetti has also harmed an OSI doctor - the head of our medical facility - and that the damage caused to him may be permanent. We'll need time to investigate any new charges that may result and request that he continue to be held in NSB/OSI custody until such time as we can proceed with this Tribunal.''

''Due to the extremely serious nature of these charges, Mr. Marchetti will continue in your custody and in your holding cell, should you deem such secure measures to be necessary. However, an attorney must be allowed immediate access to the defendant or you're looking at having these charges pulled into open court at a later date, when he vocally demands an appeal - because I can already tell you this defendant will be very, very vocal.''

''Your Honor, that's exactly what we're afraid of.''

* * *

Steve wasn't sure what to tell Jaime about Rudy's condition. While Michael had definitely not caused Rudy's first cardiac 'incident' (he'd been 20 miles away) and had most likely not caused the second one either, this third - and most serious - incident happened so suddenly and at such a convenient time (for Michael) that the possibility had to be considered that (given everything else he'd done) Michael had been behind this, as well. There was an entire team comprised of the best cardiologists in the nation examining him and they would hopefully have an answer soon - or at least within the next few days. Steve decided that Jaime was worried enough about her own testimony before the Tribunal and that he didn't want to heap more on her plate before they knew for certain, one way or the other.

When the phone call came in, just as Steve was fixing a breakfast tray to take to his wife, the news (and its timing) seemed serendipitous. The Tribunal was delayed for two weeks for further investigation (wonderful) and so Marchetti could consult with a lawyer and mount a defense (not so wonderful). Two weeks was exactly the length of time of their long-promised but still un-taken vacation/honeymoon...and he and Jaime could certainly use some 'down time'. If/when news about Rudy was available, Steve would break it to her gently (of course) and they'd be staying close by (right there, at home) where it was only a short drive to visit him often. But for now, rest and recuperation - and _togetherness_- seemed to be in order. Steve smiled broadly at his wife when he found her already awake.

''You...cooked?'' she marveled. ''I didn't hear the smoke alarm!'' There was a plate of scrambled eggs (not burned), bacon cooked almost exactly right, toast (buttered - and also not burned), orange juice and coffee. Jaime was suitably impressed.

''I guess I'm multi-talented after all,'' he joked lightly, placing the tray in front of her. ''And I have good news for you. The Tribunal - and your testimony, well, _our _testimonies - have been delayed for two weeks. So it looks like we might finally get to spend some quality time together and -''

''Steve? I...um...'' Jaime wasn't quite sure how to say this, so she had to simply blurt it out. ''I wanna see Michael.''

''That is _not_ going to happen,'' Steve stated flatly.

''I need to talk to him - to find out why he _really _did this. Wire my ear again, if you want; he might tell me something useful that he wouldn't tell you or the others, and -''

''No, Jaime.''

''I _need _to do this!'' she insisted.

By the look in her eyes and the firm set of her jaw that he knew so well, from having lost so many 'discussions' with her in the past...Steve knew her mind was made up. If he refused to help her, Jaime would most likely find someone else who _would_.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Steve _had_ to find some way to make Jaime _want_ to change her mind. He knew there'd be no changing it 'for' her, no reasoning with The One With the Firmly-Set Jaw. Unless he could find someone else who _could _make her see reason, he thought! Steve called Oscar's LA office, reached Russ and requested that Oscar stop by, once he'd returned from his meeting with Jack Hansen. Then he dialed National Medical and put in a page for Mark Conrad.

Mark arrived in under 20 minutes, just as Jaime was finishing off the last of her breakfast. Steve caught him on the front porch, before he had a chance to ring the bell, and quietly explained the situation to him. Even if Jaime had known they were out there (which she didn't, as she was still marveling at Steve's new-found cooking ability), she wouldn't have been able to eavesdrop. The correct ear components had been implanted, but her hearing was only tuned to 'normal' levels to start. It would be turned up gradually to assess her body's (and more specifically, her brain's) reaction.

''Doc, this _can't _happen!'' Steve concluded. ''Not because I'm jealous - not anymore. I'm afraid he might try and mess with her mind, throw off her testimony or even make her too scared to go before the judge at all!''

Mark nodded. ''Alright; I've heard you out. Now I'll hear Jaime's outlook on the issue. You know I won't give an opinion - but maybe I can help guide you both to a solution.''

''That's all I ask,'' Steve agreed, sure that 'his' solution - keeping Jaime far away from Michael - was the only real answer.

''Hi, Mark!'' Jaime called cheerfully from the kitchen, as soon as she saw him come in the door. ''Steve cooked breakfast!''

''Where are the fire trucks?'' Mark asked lightly.

''Not you too, Doc?'' Steve cried, pretending mortal injury and falling onto the sofa. He got right back up and headed into the kitchen, taking the plate that she was washing from Jaime's hand. ''This can wait, Sweetheart. Who knows; someone may even offer to do this for you, if you play your cards right. But Mark wants to talk to you about...well...about the idea you had.''

''You called him?''

''C'mon - let's just see what he has to say,'' Steve suggested. The two of them sat down on the sofa with an arm around each other...but Jaime was clearly unhappy.

''Steve shouldn't have called you,'' she told Mark softly. ''I'm always happy to see you...but this isn't something I need analyzed or even talked over. The only person I really need to see about this...is Oscar.''

''He'll be here within the hour,'' Steve told her.

Jaime turned to him with surprise then looked back toward the doctor. ''See what I put up with?''

''He cares,'' Mark told her. ''That's an awful thing to put up with, isn't it? So why don't you tell me why you feel you need to see Michael?''

''For _closure_- like when I went to see Chris. Steve didn't like that either, but it ended that chapter for me. I could close the book and put it away.''

''This is _different_, Jaime,'' Steve argued (but in a soft, quiet voice). ''Chris was subdued, already charged, pleaded guilty and ready to be put away. Marchetti is _dangerous_- in more ways than one.''

''Oscar could have him shackled to the bench, so you know he wouldn't put his hands on me,'' Jaime pointed out. She presented a decent case for herself, telling Mark (and Steve) that she not only needed closure, she needed _answers_. And she thought that maybe she could get things out of him that the more strong-arm tactics of the NSB (and, unfortunately, her own husband) could not. That was when the doorbell rang.

''Once Hansen and I start arguing, the meeting's over,'' Oscar explained as to why he'd come earlier than expected. ''You're far more pleasant to have coffee with anyhow.''

''I'll get you a cup,'' Steve offered.

Jaime went through her explanation again, this time for her boss - the one who would make the final decision. Oscar listened thoughtfully, silently (much the way Mark had). Then he nodded. ''She makes a good case, Pal. In fact, with Marchetti lawyering up, she may be the only person he'll agree to see without his attorney present.''

''He could taint her testimony!'' Steve argued (not quite as quietly this time).

''I'll check with Doctor Corinth and Rudy, to see if we can safely attach another listening device. If you could be in the office upstairs, listening on headphones or a speaker, would that help?'' Oscar asked Steve.

''What would 'help' is you saying _Jaime, you're not going anywhere near him_...but it sounds like you've made a decision,'' Steve noted.

''Why don't you come back to National with me now,'' Oscar told Jaime. ''We'll check with your doctors and if they say it's alright, we'll have Doctor Corinth go ahead and take care of it. While that's happening, I'll call Frank Morrisey to come and meet with you, to go over what you can and cannot say to Michael now - and what we may need you to try and find out.'' (Whether Steve liked it or not, they would likely have to tell her about the new, pending charges regarding Rudy's condition.) ''Steve, if you don't feel you can be on the other end of the device, Russ or I can take your place. Or we can put her on speaker and have Mark there too. That part, I'll leave up to you.''

''Nice to know I still get to decide _something_,'' Steve grumbled.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Jaime was more than ready. She'd been thinking about this meeting for days before she mentioned it to Steve. She knew how he'd react but for her this confrontation wasn't just an idea in her head that she thought might be good; it was _essential_. Jaime was _nobody's victim_- not anymore - and she needed to prove that to Michael...and to herself.

Doctor Corinth had no trouble implanting the (temporary) listening device in Jaime's ear, thanks to Rudy's calm, expert guidance. Rudy himself was doing better each day. He was still hospitalized (probably would be for some time) but that morning the cardiac team had finally come up with an answer - and now they knew what they were looking at and how best to treat their patient. A new test on Rudy's blood sample, taken soon after the third cardiac incident, had shown a higher than therapeutic level of Digoxin. While this drug (in smaller doses than Rudy had been given) was often used to treat conditions such as his, Rudy's cardiologist had written a detailed protocol - a treatment plan to be followed in his care - and Digoxin was _not_ listed. It hadn't been prescribed for him in _any_ dosage and should not have shown up in his blood. And the higher dosage that he'd apparently been given could _cause _a cardiac 'incident' like the one he'd experienced.

Even though it had almost been expected, everyone was stunned by the news - and Jaime was _devastated_ but all the more determined to get Michael to talk to her and give them more evidence that could be used at his Tribunal. Finally, it was _time_. Oscar, Russ, Mark Conrad, Jack Hansen and _Steve _sat tensely around a speaker in Jack's office on the 4th floor. At first, Michael had only been told that a visitor was coming. He'd demanded to have his attorney present...until they told him who the visitor would be; then he'd insisted on seeing her alone. He was shackled much the same way he'd been in the judge's chambers: wrists and ankles, with both sets of restraints secured to the metal bench. He would be unable to get up or to touch Jaime in any way...and she'd been warned repeatedly not to get too close.

Jaime found herself beginning to tremble as she walked down the stairs to the NSB basement and down the long hallway toward The Hole. She asked the guard to give her a few minutes to collect herself, as she didn't want Michael to see her showing any fear or trepidation. Soon enough, she was _ready_. The guard opened the cell door, let Jaime step inside and then closed and locked it behind her. She was alone with the man who had tried to kill her in the name of love. She stood and simply stared for a long couple of moments, stunned by how far he'd fallen from the talented young doctor who'd shown so much promise for the future...to the man who sat before her in shackles.

''I was hoping you'd come,'' Michael told her, meeting Jaime's questioning look with a steady gaze of his own...one that made Jaime's skin crawl.

''We need to talk,'' she asserted.

''He's really got you under a spell...doesn't he?'' Michael asked softly. (Up in the makeshift control room, Steve bristled.)

''Excuse me?'' Jaime retorted.

''Austin. I know you'd never set me up on your own. You didn't really _want_ to do that. Somehow, _he _made you.''

''No one forces me to do anything, Michael,'' Jaime answered in a cool, quiet voice.

''Come a little closer,'' he invited. ''Please?''

Upstairs, Steve clutched the microphone. ''_Don't do it, Jaime_!'' he instructed.

Michael was oozing charm from every pore. To Jaime, he almost seemed like the 'old' Michael - and she had to force herself not to feel sorry for his predicament. She moved cautiously toward him, stopping just out of his (very short) reach. Michael smiled; he almost _had _her! ''Come and sit next to me...and I'll tell you anything you want to know,'' he promised. She stood her ground (exactly as Michael knew she would) and seemingly to emphasize his point, he gestured with his head and with his hands (as much as he could move them), inviting her closer. Somehow, he managed to catch the chain around his neck and (even though he could breathe perfectly well) he began to make strangled, choking sounds.

''Michael?'' Jaime asked in a quivering voice, finally stepping directly next to him. Michael continued to 'gasp for air', pointing to the chain around his neck.

''Sweetheart, what's happening?'' Steve called out from Hansen's office.

Jaime didn't answer him. Panicked that he might choke to death on 'her' watch - and without stopping to think it through - she reached over and broke the chain that secured Michael's wrists to each other and to the bench. Immediately, he grabbed her with a vise-like grip, yanked her onto his lap and (before she even had a chance to cry out) wrapped both hands around her throat and began to squeeze. The angle he held her at meant that she could only feebly kick backwards. Jaime's right arm flailed out, trying to connect and disable him somehow but with her back to him she was unable to connect...and she felt herself beginning to black out.

Michael leaned in close to Jaime's _left_ ear and whispered too softly for the device to pick up. ''If you want a breath of air - ever again - you'll reach down and break my leg chains. And you'd better do it _now_.''

With no answer from Jaime and no discernible sound coming through the speaker except the rattling of Michael's chains, Steve threw down the mic and headed for the basement at bionic speed. He found the cell door open, with the guard lying unconscious just outside The Hole.

_Michael...and __**Jaime**__ were gone._


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The guard had been startled when he'd answered what he'd expected to be Jaime's knock on the cell door - and instead he'd been cold-cocked by Michael (his chains only adding to the impact). Steve shook him awake and the guard groaned...and quickly took inventory. ''He's got my keys,'' he gasped, ''my handcuffs...and...my gun!''

_Dear God...NO! _Steve pleaded in his head. With just those few minutes' head start and access to the NSB's vehicles, Steve knew that Michael could quickly remove Jaime from the range of the listening device...and take her anywhere he wanted to! And with a weapon, he'd ensured she'd be less likely to fight back (if she dared try at all). Steve took the stairs in one bionic bound and ran for the parking garage, relaying information via datacom to the control room as he went. He arrived just in time to hear tires squealing madly out of the garage - the car already around the corner too quickly for him to have caught even a glimpse.

The horrified men in the control room had to tell Steve what they'd just overheard - but they had no idea how to break it to him.

* * *

''Move it, Jaime,'' Michael snarled (after knocking out the guard). ''If your husband catches up to us, I swear I'll shoot him!''

The men listening on the speaker could hear footsteps moving down the hallway - and at one point, the sound of a shove - and then Jaime's voice, still clear and even, as the footfalls hurried up the stairs. ''Michael, you don't have to do this,'' she told him. ''Let's turn around right now...and I'll help you -''

''You'll help me straight into a prison cell - isn't that right? Forget it, Jaime! And you'd better move faster. I'm sure Steve is on his way down here right now. Do you _want_ to watch him get shot? Because don't forget I'm OSI-trained. I _won't_ miss!'' The sound of a large ring of keys being rifled through came across the speaker. ''Here's a key - for _that _one -''

''The blue one?'' Jaime asked, trying to drop any clues she could to the control room.

''Dammit; don't try to be smart!'' The sound of an abrupt _slap_ was heard, followed by Jaime's sharp cry of pain. He rifled through the keys again. ''Here's another - for _that _one - and don't you dare say a word or we'll just wait right here for your soon-to-be-deceased husband. Get in the drivers side.'' Two car doors opening and closing in rapid succession were heard on the speaker. The car's engine turned over and Michael and Jaime sped out of the garage, tires squealing, just seconds ahead of Steve's arrival.

The men in the control room sprang into action. Hansen directed his best team to the garage to ascertain - as quickly as possible - which vehicle was missing so a vehicular APB could be issued. Oscar was already on the phone with the State Police, calling for an APB on Michael. Steve had returned, bereft and worried out of his mind, to the control room - and he, Russ and Mark were left to listen in mute horror to what little was still coming in over the speaker. Michael was cunning - and deviously intelligent. He was giving them absolutely nothing to go on.

* * *

''Not one word, Jaime,'' Michael instructed. ''Don't even make a sound. I know you've got a new 'device' in your ear. And Steve, if you're listening - and I'm fairly certain you _are_ - your wife is _mine _now! I hope you kissed her goodbye this morning!''

Knowing that Marchetti would be unable to hear him (but praying that Jaime still _could_), Steve grabbed the mic. ''Sweetheart, try not to let him take you out of range. Every agency on the West Coast is looking for you. We _will_ find you! Stay strong..._I love you_.''

''Michael, I -'' Jaime began.

Michael waved the gun in the direction he wanted her to turn. ''This way,'' he ordered. ''And we'll have plenty of time to talk later. For now, I want you to drive. Just drive. Got it?'' He pressed the gun firmly into her still-healing ribcage to emphasize his point. Jaime nodded. A few more miles and she was sure they were now out of her ear piece's range. She was in serious trouble without anyone to guide her through it. In spite of the training she'd received from Oscar, Steve, Russ and various experts over the course of the last month or two, Jaime was suddenly very afraid.

He had been preparing for this day, for this possible eventuality, ever since it had become clear that Jaime would be staying with her husband. Michael had managed to amass everything he thought he might need in a cabin he knew the OSI was unaware of. An old 'junker' of a car that was hardly the sort of vehicle a doctor of his standing would choose was merely the beginning of his plan; soon he was behind the wheel of the beat-up brown Chevy, with Jaime out cold in the backseat - her ear piece removed and her body severely weakened by a specially-chosen 'cocktail' he'd injected her with at gunpoint. When they reached the cabin, he'd make more permanent adjustments to her power packs, able to take all the time he'd need. Jaime was truly _his_ now, and no one - not even Steve Austin - was going to take her away!

* * *

''We've got our vehicle,'' Hansen announced to the assembled group. ''Abandoned behind a warehouse in the Northwest sector. So we at least know the direction they're traveling.''

''Or _were _traveling,'' Steve said miserably. ''Marchetti could've doubled back and gone in any number of directions, just to throw us off. And he's taken her out of range...so we have no way to track them, no vehicle to watch for...nothing whatsoever to help us find my wife!''

Oscar had extended the APB to encompass all surrounding states (and the Mexican border, in case Michael should try to sneak Jaime across into Mexico) but inwardly he knew that Steve was right. For now, they had little-to-nothing to go on. Their best hope (unless some sort of lead could be found) was that Jaime might still be able to find her own way out of the situation.

* * *

Jaime opened her eyes to find the world spinning crazily around her. A hand brushed against her face and a voice was speaking to her - _Michael's voice_ - sounding like he was coming through a misty, enveloping, _stifling_ fog. Except...he wasn't talking to her; he was talking...to _Steve_!

The men in the control room - now more of a command station - looked up in unison from their tasks when the speaker suddenly crackled to life. ''Austin?'' Michael's voice dripped with the sound of evil intentions. ''Guess who this is? Bingo! I've made some adjustments to this nifty little earpiece that I think you'll appreciate. I've increased the range dramatically, after removing the tracking portion, of course. Oh, and it's only a transmitter now...so don't bother with the microphone. She won't be able to hear you. But you'll hear her - you'll hear _**us**_- any time I choose. Won't that be fun?''

Mocking laughter taunted the men in the command center - and tore at Steve's heart - until the transmission abruptly ended.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The next thing Jaime noticed (once the spinning stopped) was that she wasn't chained, handcuffed or secured in any way. Michael had been diabolically meticulous in everything he'd done thus far. He hadn't _overlooked_ securing her; he'd _chosen _not to...but why? When he saw that she was fully awake, Michael perched on the edge of the narrow bed, placed one of his hands on the mattress on either side of Jaime's body...and smiled.

''Good morning, Gorgeous!'' he said happily.

_Morning_? Had she really lost almost 16 hours to whatever he'd given her...or was he just trying to disorient her? There were heavy blankets covering the only two small windows in the one room structure so if the intent was disorientation, he'd certainly succeeded! The shack/cabin/whatever-it-was had electricity, but Jaime had no way of knowing if it was indeed morning outside...or the dead of night. He wasn't on top of her - wasn't even touching her in any way - but having even part of his body looming so directly over hers made Jaime's skin crawl with disgust. Any attraction she might've once felt toward her handsome young doctor vanished when she'd learned of his duplicity...how he'd been harming her at the very same time he'd been professing his love. And she felt nothing but revulsion toward the _stranger_ who had felt he had to do _this_...revulsion with maybe the smallest smidgeon of something else. _Pity_. He'd had so much...and he'd thrown it away.

No! Jaime knew she couldn't allow herself to think that way; there could be NO pity for him...not if she wanted to get out of there alive...if she wanted to see Steve again.

* * *

''He's right,'' the OSI technician confirmed. ''Tracking device has been disabled.''

''There has to be some way to find them!'' Steve insisted.

''The original device has been altered and if this is the only receiver, it's not mobile and can't be used in any of the traditional tracking methods. I'm sorry, Colonel; I'll keep the scientists and techs working on this but for right now, our hands are tied.''

Each man in the room returned to his own tasks, manning one or more phone lines in the search for answers - and for one extremely dangerous escaped fugitive, on the run with the best (and only true) witness against him. They all jumped - and Steve nearly dove toward the speaker - when the next transmission began.

''Michael...why are you doing this?'' Jaime's voice was clear, but Steve could also pick up something else; she was _frightened_.

''It's the only way we can still be together,'' the young former-doctor's voice crooned. ''Eventually, you'll see that you still love me - just as much as you ever did - and you'll thank me for doing this, Jaime.''

''For holding me prisoner?''

''For risking _everything_, just to prove how much I love you. For now though, I guess I'll have to _show _you,'' Michael responded.

''Michael...stop...'' Jaime pleaded in a very small voice. ''Please don't...''

Steve obviously couldn't see through the speaker to wherever Marchetti was holding his wife...couldn't tell what it was the scum was doing to her...and he couldn't stop his own fist from slamming the table he was sitting at, crushing it to pieces. Mark moved to place a hand on Steve's shoulder as the speaker (on the main conference table) continued its awful broadcast.

Jaime's voice was growing weaker, smaller, tinged now with true panic. ''What...what did you _do_ to me, Michael?'' she sobbed. With that, Marchetti had accomplished his objective of the moment - tormenting Steve - and the transmission was over.

* * *

Michael leaned closer to Jaime and kissed her _again_. The first one had been meant to elicit a reaction for Steve to hear; this one...was for Michael himself. Jaime gagged at the feel of his lips pressing against hers and she struggled to turn away from him...but just as had happened when she'd tried to push him off, she found herself too weak to manage it. She endured his kiss only by closing her eyes and picturing Steve's face. (She _would_ get through this and find her way back to him! She _had_ to!) At least when Kingsley had tried to attack her, she'd been able to use the little bit of strength she'd had left to fend him off and block his advances. She had determined that she wouldn't be Kingsley's victim...and she wouldn't allow herself to be Michael's, either! But with her entire body...bionics, flesh-and-blood, _everything_...so completely sapped of all energy and strength by a man who knew exactly how to do that, she'd have to use her wits to survive.

''You gave up medicine...for me...'' she whispered. ''Everything you worked...so hard for...''

''That's right,'' Michael said, beaming at her.

''Your cryogenics...all of your research...your good standing...''

''Gone - all of it,'' Michael agreed. ''But what I got instead is so much more _satisfying_! Jaime, when you kissed me in your hospital room - really kissed me - and I saw the look in your eyes, I knew what we had three years ago had never died. Not really. Our love was still there, waiting for us to find each other again. And once we did, well...what man in his right mind wouldn't fight for the only true love he's ever known?''

_The key words there_, Jaime thought to herself, _being 'in his right mind'_...because somewhere along the line, Michael had clearly lost his! Had she caused this...with one single (totally misguided) kiss? Michael had just laid the blame for all of it squarely in her lap! But no; she knew that was a 'victim thought' again. _You're not dead until you're dead. Don't go there without a fight._ Jaime knew she had to stop thinking like a victim and start thinking like an _operative_.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Jaime quietly surveyed her surroundings while Michael puttered about, fixing a plate of cheese and crackers and pouring some wine. While she hesitated to eat or drink anything he might offer her now, he seemed to have progressed from one method of drugging her (sneakily, in her drinks) to the more open method of using a needle. She guessed (hoped!) that at least some of her strength might return if she could keep him from drugging her again.

The one-room structure had a kitchenette area even smaller than the one she remembered from the bunker at Edwards, two small (covered) windows, one door to the outside and another door that she assumed (hoped) was for an indoor bathroom. (Was there another window in there? Could it provide an eventual means of escape?) There was a small fireplace on one wall, with a seating area in front of it - and then the bed area, with a writing desk on the wall opposite the foot of the bed. Too elaborate of a set-up to be a mere fishing shack or shanty, not sophisticated or large enough to be a real home; it had to be a vacation cabin. Jaime wondered where the gun was, if she could get to it if she needed it...and if she'd be able to use it. _Kill or be killed_...

Michael returned to the bed and set the tray on the tiny bedside table. He fluffed the pillows, adding an extra one, and helped her slide up into a sitting position. Jaime noticed that he (very casually) bent over as he perched beside her, seeming to reach for something under the mattress or possibly tucked up in the elastic of the bottom sheet. Then he gazed directly into her eyes and handed Jaime a glass of wine. ''For you, my love,'' he told her. ''A toast - to _us_.''

They clinked glasses and smiled, Jaime meeting his eyes with her own, trying to pull him in and hiding her revulsion with the best, most radiant smile she could possibly fake. ''My favorite,'' she cooed. ''You've certainly...thought of everything.''

''Only the very best for you,'' he added. ''Just name it and it's yours.''

_How about 'freedom'...you creep?_ she thought in her head. Out loud, not sure that anyone other than Michael could hear her, Jaime kept up her careful charade. ''How about...another kiss?'' If it was what it took to get him to trust her, to not drug her mind into oblivion (or drain the strength from her body) she would kiss him. She would die before she let things go any further than that but to help secure her freedom...she would kiss him.

* * *

In the command center, Steve (and the others) were hearing every word. _She's baiting him_, Steve told himself (trying not to destroy another table). _She has to be_! He looked to Mark with pain-filled eyes, even as they were still listening. Once again, Mark placed an empathetic hand on Steve's shoulder, to 'ground' him.

''She doesn't mean it,'' he said gently. Mark knew that even if Michael's eventual intent was to brainwash Jaime, it was simply too soon for that to have worked.

''I hope not,'' Steve answered. He knew his wife's tendency to reach out and empathize with people in pain. If Michael could manage to reach that side of her...

''Hear that, Austin?'' Michael taunted. (They could almost hear the sneer in his voice!) ''Your _wife_ has finally realized who she _really_ wants! Come here, Darling - and I'll show you how a _real _man can treat you!''

Static (and the transmission) ended there. Steve had to force himself not to punch the speaker; right now, it was their only link (however tenuous) to Jaime.

* * *

Jaime watched Michael reach down again to a spot on the side of the bed before he drew her into his arms. She had been right; he was starting and stopping transmissions to the speaker (and to _Steve_) through something hidden on that side of the bed. She would look for it later, when she had the chance - and when she was ready for the next phase of her plan. Right now, she had to concentrate on not shuddering or cringing as she leaned into Michael's embrace. She stared into his eyes, trying to reach his very soul (and wondering if there was any part of the 'old' Michael still in there).

Michael returned her kiss greedily, reveling in his own success. She'd come around so quickly, now that he'd removed Steve Austin from the picture...or at least removed her from Austin's life. He might have had to bring her here through deception and force - but now she was kissing him just the way he remembered! She was finally going to be his..._forever_! Now that she was realizing her true place, it was time to take things further, to cement their relationship in Jaime's mind so she'd never long for Steve - or for anyone else other than him - ever again. Michael withdrew another needle from his pocket, one he'd prepared while getting out the wine and cheese. Still holding Jaime in his arms, he began kissing her neck. Jaime shivered at the unwanted contact and kept on picturing Steve's face and hearing his words (_Stay strong...I love you_) to keep herself on track. She was acutely aware of every move Michael made...and she saw the needle as he was preparing to plunge it into her arm.

''You don't need that,'' she whispered, nibbling seductively on his ear lobe to try and convince him.

''I don't,'' Michael agreed. ''But _you _do.''

''Michael...no...please? _I love you_...'' Jaime still didn't have enough strength to pull away from him - and was trying to keep up the ruse that she _wanted _him - so was unable to avoid what happened next. Whatever he gave her burned terribly as he hit the plunger on the syringe...and soon she was forced to give in to the smothering cloud of oblivion.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Later that night, after she'd been 'blacked out' for several hours, Jaime's eyes were open but she found she could barely move at all. Michael sat on the bed beside her, patiently waiting while she struggled to focus...and then he smiled. ''I have a present for you,'' he told her. In his hand, he held a sheaf of papers. ''Do you know what these are? They're for your annulment; then we can _really _be together. Knock the legs right out from under the great Colonel Austin!''

Jaime couldn't stifle her sharp intake of breath. _This_ she hadn't seen coming. _Please God...anything but this!_ She wouldn't sign! She _couldn't_!

It was as if he was reading her mind! ''You _will_ sign them, Jaime. You said you wanted me...now you're going to prove it!'' Michael slipped a pen into her hand and held the papers where she could reach them, with a writing board behind them. ''Sign, darling. You _know this is what you want too_!''

_You want it too...you want it too..._The words echoed in Jaime's mind and she couldn't push them away. Tears pearled in her eyes as her hand moved almost involuntarily to the paper. She tried desperately to think of a way out...

_Jaime L. Sommers-Austin_, she wrote. It was not the name she used legally...and she could only hope it would be enough to keep this from happening. Michael kissed her - deeply - before jabbing her with another needle and forcing her to black out once again.

* * *

Steve felt all of the breath leave his body like a sucker punch to the heart as he stared at what a messenger had just delivered. The young delivery person, nabbed by Hansen's team before he could leave the building, was unable to tell them anything useful. The envelope had gone swiftly from one messenger service to another, with the leg closest to wherever Michael was holding Jaime handled by someone unknown who couldn't be traced through a service at all...and couldn't be located. Yet again, he'd slipped through their fingers. Even Jack Hansen was becoming agitated now. No one had ever escaped from the NSB's Hole before and his agency's inability to come up with even the smallest lead was both infuriating and humbling for him.

Steve was inconsolable. He sat staring at the heinous papers in front of him on the table, with Mark on one side of him and Oscar on the other...and he was struck totally dumb. He saw her signature - shaky but definitely Jaime's handwriting - and the empty line below it that awaited his own autograph. Of course, he wouldn't sign (or file) but the cruel act nearly leveled Steve emotionally. Michael had to be doing terrible things to Jaime - to her _mind_- to get her to agree to this.

What was happening to her, at that very moment? Steve couldn't bear to think about it!

* * *

Michael was going on virtually no sleep - but in his excitement, rest was the furthest thing from his mind. When Jaime began to stir, he slid her over to one edge of the bed and climbed in next to her with his shirt off, encircling her body with his arms so he'd be the first thing she saw (and felt) as she returned to consciousness. She woke with a start, her heart pounding with fear when she saw him beside her, only partially dressed. (Had they...?)

''You were wonderful, Darling,'' he told her with a sultry, seductive smile. ''Well worth waiting for.''

_Noooo..._! In her heart, Jaime knew nothing had happened. Even if she'd been unconscious - or totally blacked out - she would _feel _that something like that had been done to her. (Besides, she was still fully dressed.) It simply hadn't happened; Michael was only playing with her mind and her emotions...but it was working. She was disoriented...confused...and not just because of the shots. Jaime began taking stock of her body - and found that she was able to move again, albeit only weakly. She had to maintain at least some semblance of control; her life (and now her sanity too) depended on it! She concentrated as hard as she could on what she remembered of her own plan to defeat him. The thought of what she was about to do nauseated her but she leaned toward him as if savoring his embrace.

''I can feel...how _good_ it was,'' she told him. By fate, Providence or simply dumb luck, she was on the side of the bed she _needed _to be on. Bracing herself not to gag, she laid on her back in Michael's arms, turning her head to kiss him...holding his lips with her own and keeping his full attention focused on that as her free arm lolled over the side of the bed and began to search. Her fingers brushed against what felt like a tiny remote, with a single switch...and she flipped it. Then Jaime turned onto her side, fully facing Michael as she kissed him once more.

''You really went through a lot to get us here, didn't you?'' she began.

* * *

Steve's attention was riveted to the speaker - and the sound of his wife's voice. It was the first time a transmission had come through that didn't appear to have been initiated by Michael. In his heart, Steve knew that _this was it_. This was Jaime's attempt to outwit Michael - to beat him at his own game. If she succeeded, maybe she'd be able to escape - or at least let them know where she was. If she failed - if Michael caught on to what she was doing - he was likely to kill her.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Jaime was careful to select what she hoped were exactly the right words. ''It really turns me on that you'd go to all that trouble, just for me,'' she told Michael, snuggling closer to him without actually pressing against him. Michael's arms pulled her the rest of the way, into direct contact and even though she was fully clothed, Jaime shuddered...nearly giving herself away. To cover what she hoped he hadn't noticed, she kissed him...hard. ''Tell me more about it,'' she said breathlessly. ''When did you switch my good ear for the bad one?''

''Well,'' Michael began (luxuriating in the way her body was curled against his), ''remember that first MRI, when I told you not to open your eyes? I know you; I knew you'd see that as a challenge. And you did.''

''That _thing_- it was spinning almost right against my nose!'' Jaime remembered. ''I'm not claustrophobic but...damn, that was horrible!''

Michael nodded. ''Yeah...I knew you'd look...and I knew how you'd take it. So I had to sedate you - put you out - for the rest of the scan.''

''And that was when you switched the ears? Very smart, Doctor,'' she purred.

''I thought so. Come closer...I need to taste those lips ,'' he commanded.

She had to make him believe she was further 'under his spell' than she actually was, so Jaime slowly complied. (_Sorry, Steve_...she thought silently.) ''So...why'd you do it? Switch the ears, I mean. You wanted...to _hurt _me?''

''Of course not. I hated that I had to cause you pain. I never wanted you to suffer...but you had to _need _me,'' Michael explained.

''And yet...you increased the voltage it was putting out...why?''

''The second MRI - while you were still 'under' - I turned it up a little bit more. I...never wanted to hurt you...but there was no way your _husband_'' (he spat out the word like it was poison) ''could keep me away from you while you were getting sicker.''

''You were so clever. And the end...it justified the means...right?'' Jaime deduced.

''That's right. Steve started going off the deep end. If we'd kept it up just a little bit longer, they might actually have had to put him away,'' Michael chuckled.

''That would've solved everything,'' Jaime pretended to agree.

''I never expected Oscar to send us on assignment together...'' he recalled. ''Sharing a hotel room was...special. But there was no way you could do what needed to be done...not when you were still so sick.''

''Did you drug me on the plane?''

''No. You were still drowsy and sleeping off the after-effects of those headaches.''

''They were _awful_, Michael! I wish there'd been some other way!''

''So do I - but there wasn't. So that first night, to be sure you'd be able to complete the mission without getting us both killed, I -''

''You turned down the voltage the bad ear was sending out?''

''I turned it off entirely. You still had full hearing capability...but with no shocks. And yes; there was a sedative in your drink. I had no other choice. I couldn't tell you what was happening. Not then.''

''You're right. I'd probably have knocked you out,'' Jaime admitted (meaning every word). ''It felt _so good_, acting like I was your wife...even for those couple of days.''

''Once Austin files those papers I sent him, we'll be together like that for real,'' Michael told Jaime. ''And _forever_.''

''Mmmmmm...I love that! And...I love _you_, Michael. What happened...that last night we were in Trinidad? You turned the voltage back up? Why...?''

''Yeah, I did. When we would've been on the transport plane home, I was going to ask you to listen and find out what was going on in the cockpit and as soon as you used your ear...''

''You made me that sick...because you _love _me?'' She kissed him to let him know she wasn't angry. ''I...we both...could've died in that cellar...''

''There was no way to know that would happen. If you hadn't tried to listen to what they were doing upstairs...'' Michael explained.

''Then I could've fought them off.''

''It was the only time in my life I've ever been relieved to see Steve Austin,'' he said ironically. ''Darling, it broke my heart...to see you with your face in the dirt...the way they treated you. For that...I'm so sorry.''

''You couldn't have known,'' Jaime told him, cupping his face in her hands. She almost had him! ''And when we got back...when Rudy was supposed to take care of me...''

''I made sure I was the only one who could help you - that you would need me in a way that even Austin couldn't deny.''

''Michael...what did you do?''

''I gave Rudy a little extra medicine before I took you for that last MRI. Nothing too serious - nothing that would actually kill him, especially when he was already in a hospital and surrounded by people who would take immediate action to help him. I just needed him out of commission for awhile...because I knew Austin would demand a new doctor for you...and I had to make sure I still had access. I didn't want to be away from you, not after everything we'd shared.''

''And my last MRI...I got even sicker after that...'' Jaime noted.

''I did it...'' he confirmed. ''I increased the voltage one last time. For _us_, Darling - so we could be together. I knew you wouldn't need to use your ear in the hospital - but once Austin took you home, it was bound to happen eventually...and it did. It brought you back to me. Rudy was unavailable, Doctor Corinth was eight hours away - and for a little while longer, you were _mine_.''

''You threw away everything you worked your whole life for...''

''For you. For _us_, Jaime. And now...you _are _my life. You're all that matters to me. I did it in the only way I knew how...and it worked. I hated having to make you so sick. And The Hole was no picnic either...''

''But it all worked out in the end,'' Jaime concluded, ''because we're finally _together_. Thank you, Michael...for everything.''

* * *

In the control room, Steve was seething at what he'd heard - but also grinning like a canary-fed feline. Jaime had _done _it! And they had it all on tape. ''Great work, Sweetheart,'' he exulted out loud. ''Now tell us where you are...''


	9. Chapter 9

(****Violence warning****)

Chapter 9

''Where do we go from here, Michael?'' Jaime asked softly. ''We can't stay in this cabin forever...''

(_Cabin_, Steve noted. _They're in a cabin...where?_)

Michael laughed...chillingly. ''You're right; we can't. Close your eyes, Darling, because I have a surprise for you.''

''Ooh...I love surprises...''

Michael rolled over and Jaime felt the mattress shift as he retrieved something from his side of the bed. His breath was hot on her neck as he leaned in as close as he could get to her right ear. ''I'm not an idiot, Jaime,'' he whispered very, very softly. ''I know what you were doing. And Austin, I know you heard every word. Well, here's one more sound that I know you'll recognize.''

To Steve's ultimate horror, over the speaker came the distinctive sound of the cocking of a gun!

Jaime's eyes flew open wide in alarm. She looked up into eyes that only seconds before had glittered with an evil sort of 'love' - but had suddenly grown dark, cold and menacing. ''You did an excellent job, Jaime,'' Michael snarled. ''But only because I let you. I wanted them to know exactly what I did - and exactly what I'm about to do! Are you ready to die, Jaime? And Austin, are you ready to hear every glorious second? It's inescapable, you know. This can't end any other way.'' Michael lowered the gun from Jaime's ear, tracing the barrel across her cheekbone until it was directly between her eyes. He let her stare at its threatening promise in a silence he knew would be driving her husband out of his mind for several excruciatingly long moments, then began slowly moving it down her body...stopping at the hollow of her throat, the center of her chest...and then abruptly swinging it back between her eyes.

''Michael...you don't have to do this...'' Jaime pleaded in a tremulous voice. ''I'll go with you...wherever you want and...and they'll never find us! I can help...make sure of that!''

''Are you listening, Austin?'' Michael taunted coldly. ''Your wife is begging for her life. She's staring directly down the barrel of my gun - and her life is mine to take away! To take her away from _YOU_! She'll obviously never love anyone but you...and you don't deserve her!''

In the control room, Mark took Steve gently by the shoulders, intending to lead him from the room. If these truly were Jaime's last moments, Steve didn't need to carry them with him forever. But Steve shook him off. ''I'm _not _leaving,'' he insisted. ''I can't...''

Unable to think while looking at Michael (not to mention the gun), Jaime closed her eyes. Michael pressed the barrel hard into her forehead, hurting her. ''Open your eyes, _Darling_,'' he growled. ''Do _precisely _what I tell you - no more and no less - and maybe, just maybe, I'll let you live.''

Jaime opened her eyes slowly. Michael's entire body was directly over her and, still holding the gun between her eyes, he momentarily let his full weight down to rest on her, pinning her to the bed, while his other hand reached into his pocket...and then brandished another needle.

''I've spent many years studying the brain, the nervous system and the human body,'' he menaced. ''I could paralyze you, permanently or temporarily - my choice - or I could scramble your brain to mush and reprogram it any way I want to. Wouldn't that be fun? OR...I could just let your husband listen to you die!''

''Michael...'' Jaime tried again to reach him, but he was on his own private tangent now and showed no sign he'd even heard her. Her legs had been severely weakened by whatever he'd done to her while she'd been blacked out, but she began to struggle anyway, kicking up at him desperately but too feebly to make any difference. Michael only laughed at her.

''Do you _see_ the gun, Jaime? Of course you do! It means that _I'm_ in charge here. _I'm_ calling the shots.'' He laughed uproariously. ''And I'm _firing _the shots...if you don't behave. Maybe before I kill you, we should have a little fun first. Would you like that? Oh, I know you would! Doctors know all the right places...and I'm sure your loving husband would enjoy the show!'' He was still pinning her down with his body - and he gave the bed springs a good, solid (threatening) bounce, loud enough for Steve to hear. ''Or I could use this needle to turn your brain into a mushy mess of scrambled eggs; then I could do anything I want to you - anything! And you'd still be aware, feeling every minute of it but not able to do or say anything. Wouldn't that be delicious?'' He felt Jaime trembling beneath him and it made him giddy. ''Do you have anything you'd like to say to your husband before I decide what to do with you?''

Jaime was unable to hold back the tears as she said what she fully believed might be her very last words. ''_I love you, Steve..._''

''_**Wrong answer**_**!**'' Michael bellowed.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Michael howled in anger and drew back his hand, intending to strike her in the face with the gun barrel. It was the opening Jaime needed. Not ideal...but probably the only one she would get. _You're not dead until you're dead...don't go there without a fight! _With her love for Steve the only thing giving her strength, she swung her right arm up and punched Michael with everything she had, straight in his temple - her upraised arm blocking his intended blow - and then while he was momentarily stunned, she pried the gun from his hand. She pointed the barrel directly between his eyes.

''How does it feel, Michael?'' she asked softly. ''Don't even think about it,'' she told him when she saw him raise the hand that still held the syringe. ''I wanna hear that needle hit the floor - now.''

In the control room, Steve finally allowed himself a breath of sheer relief. Jaime's voice was trembling and yet her words were firm. Clearly, she'd gained control of the situation; she was nobody's victim!

''Now you can get off of me,'' she instructed.

''You won't shoot me, Jaime,'' Michael sneered. ''You don't have it in you.''

''Care to find out the hard way that you were wrong? _Get off of me NOW_! And I want you to go over and sit in that chair by the fireplace...nice and slowly, with both hands where I can see 'em. Put them on the arms of the chair - keep them in view - and _don't move_!'' Jaime watched as Michael complied with her orders, then she kept her eyes on him as she sat up slowly, collected herself and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She tested her strength gradually (watching Michael every second), unsure if her legs would hold her...but they did. Shakily, but they held. ''I'm alright, Steve,'' she announced quietly. ''He didn't hurt me.''

There appeared to be nothing she could use to secure Michael until help could arrive but thinking quickly, she tried to rip the bed sheet into strips...and found she wasn't strong enough. Keeping the gun trained on Michael, she began rummaging through the drawers, first in the kitchenette and then the writing desk until she found a scissors...and beside it, a roll of duct tape. She wouldn't need the bed sheet, after all. ''Put your hands together in front of you - just like you were praying...if you still remember what praying is,'' she told Michael. She wrapped his wrists and his arms, all the way to the elbows, with thick coils of the tape. ''Now your legs,'' she instructed. Knowing he had lost, Michael raised his legs with his ankles together and Jaime finished securing him. ''Now...tell me where we are,'' she insisted. ''Better yet, start giving directions. And don't think about lying; you're in more trouble than you could ever handle already.''

They were nearly two hours' driving distance from where Steve and the others had sat listening, first in horror and then in triumph...but with flashing lights and sirens, they pulled up to the cabin in just over an hour. Steve was the first one inside. He found Jaime seated in the chair opposite Michael's, the gun still in her hand. She set it down willingly and fell into her husband's loving embrace. They were still standing there in front of the fireplace, just holding each other, after Michael had been untaped, cuffed and shackled...and led away. The evidence team swept the cabin, taking away the needles, the drug vials and the gun...and still Jaime and Steve stood their ground, the world around them having disappeared, now that they were _together _again.

Mark waited outside in one of the cars, ready to drive them back to LA when they were ready...but they couldn't seem to let go of each other or stop gazing into each other's eyes, knowing they'd come closer than ever before to losing each other forever - and yet their love had prevailed. Mark was a patient man. He had plenty of time to wait. He didn't mind playing chauffeur, with both Steve and Jaime sitting in the backseat, curled together without the need for words. He didn't pry, didn't try to turn the ride into a 'session' - and even took the long, scenic route back, to give them a chance to just 'be', before the necessary check-up for Jaime and the debriefings that would surely follow. For the next two and a half hours, love was all that mattered.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Mark glanced in the rearview mirror often as he drove, keeping a close eye on _both _of his patients. He'd kept lemons and peppermint oil close at hand in the control room (in case Steve needed them) and he had them now, as well. Jaime had endured yet another unimaginable trauma and Mark knew the probability of flashbacks (either to her original trauma with Kingsley or to what she had just suffered through with Michael) was very high. He was also observing her - as much as he could while driving - for signs of shock. He remained ready to step on the gas and rush to National if Jaime should take a turn for the worse but for the time being, Steve was her best possible medicine.

Steve held her close...and she clung to him. His face, his words - they'd been Jaime's lifeline while she'd been struggling to survive. Now she craved his touch and his gaze...like water after a long walk through the desert. No one (including Jaime) was sure what Michael might have done to alter her bionics, so every few minutes Steve gently instructed her to move her fingers and wriggle her toes, to keep whatever strength remained in her power packs flowing through her body. Jaime herself was very quiet, still stunned by what had happened (and what had almost happened) and still trying to shake off the effects of the drugs she'd been given.

''I'm so proud of you,'' Steve told her softly. ''You got a full confession - and we got all of it on tape.''

''I don't think that's a tape I ever wanna hear again,'' Jaime sighed.

Steve couldn't answer her; he knew it would be played at the Tribunal, most likely while she was on the stand, but for right now the only thing that mattered was that his wife was _alive_...and safely in his arms once again.

* * *

''I can...walk in...'' Jaime insisted, when Mark told her to wait, that he would get a wheelchair. She'd obviously lost some of her remaining strength during the drive and he didn't want to chance having her collapse in the parking lot.

Neither did Steve. ''Just stay right here and let us take care of you,'' he suggested gently (but firmly).

''At least...I'm not flat on my back...on a gurney...'' she said. Steve smiled reassuringly and then kissed her, savoring the last few moments of quiet 'alone' time that they'd probably have for at least the next few hours - if not longer.

Indeed, an entire 'welcoming committee' poured out of National: Oscar, Russ, Doctor Corinth, Mark (with the wheelchair) and...Rudy. He was on his feet and smiling broadly at his patient. While he hadn't technically been released yet (and wouldn't be for at least several more days) Jaime's situation involved her power packs, in more detail than he could instruct Doctor Corinth quickly enough. Jaime needed Rudy and he felt well enough to be there for her...so there was no one who tried to hold him back.

Rudy knew his patient so well that he could tell simply by the color of her skin and the way she sat in the wheelchair that her power packs had been seriously tampered with. ''Take her straight back to OR-1,'' he instructed. ''My team is assembled and waiting. Have them place her on Bionic Life Support and I'll be right there.'' He placed a warm, paternal hand on Jaime's shoulder before she was wheeled away. ''You'll be just fine, Honey,'' he assured her.

Doctor Corinth was also issuing orders as the posse surrounding Jaime moved down the hallway. ''Draw enough blood for a full tox screen, standard dose of IV coumadin and I need a new MRI when she's able.''

''You'll be assisting me?'' Rudy asked Doctor Corinth. He intended to teach his new protege everything he knew...in gradual doses, naturally. He didn't want Jaime to ever be without a doctor available to care for her again.

* * *

Oscar thought that by now he'd memorized even the smallest details of the tiny waiting room that was adjacent to the OR. As he sat there with Steve, Mark and Russ, all four men were reflecting on how much life could change in only 24 hours...and just how quickly everything could be taken away.

''She was nothing short of amazing up there, Pal,'' Oscar told Steve.

''After all of this,'' Steve replied, ''hopefully she'll be able to skip Resistance Training...?''

''I'd say she's already been through it - in spades,'' Oscar agreed. ''In spite of whatever Michael did to her, Jaime got everything we needed from him and even managed to engineer her own rescue. Just...amazing.''

''She's one extraordinary woman,'' Rudy exulted from the doorway, where he and Doctor Corinth were both smiling.

Steve was instantly on his feet. ''How is she? Can I see her?''

''She's going to be fine,'' Rudy told him. ''Rather than take any chances, we replaced all of her power packs. Just as I thought, they'd been tampered with - and not carefully. They were barely putting out enough energy to keep her alive.''

''We're still waiting for the report from Toxicology,'' Doctor Corinth added. ''Jaime might have a rough couple of days ahead, while whatever he gave her works its way out of her system but we'll be watching her very closely. Together, we'll all pull her through it and you'll have her home again before you know it. Your wife is one resilient young lady, Colonel.''

Steve beamed. ''I know.''

''I'll be running her MRI personally. I'm well aware of how she feels about that machine,'' Doctor Corinth said with a slight chuckle. ''She let us know in no uncertain terms!''

''That's my wife,'' Steve laughed. ''Then she's still awake?''

''I'll sedate her for the test; I know she'd prefer that. Actually, she informed me of that quite firmly too. But you can sit with her until then, if you'd like.''

Steve didn't have to hear the offer twice. He headed into the OR's anteroom, where Jaime was lying quietly on a padded table, waiting to get ready for the test - so he could sit with her, hold her hand...and keep her from giving the doctors any more grief!


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

_Jaime could feel the cold barrel pressing hard into her forehead. The eyes that glared down at her were even colder and harder than the weapon. She could only watch in mute, horrified silence as his finger moved to the trigger..._

Jaime woke coughing as the strong odor of peppermint assailed her nostrils and her fingers curled around the ice cube Steve had placed into her hand. He held her until the violent shaking had eased - and Mark hovered close by. Her MRI had come back normal, her power packs were functioning as they should be...but after four days, Jaime was still in the hospital. The drug 'cocktail' Michael had given her had been insidious, the levels of sedation and hypnotics (designed to make her susceptible to whatever suggestions he chose to give her) ramped up gradually and with potentially devastating side effects. While they were out of her system now, it was unclear whether the horrific nightmares and flashbacks that currently assaulted her nights, tormented her days and kept her in the hospital were an after-effect of what Michael had given her...or of what he had done.

''Sometimes I feel like I'm on the very edge of a cliff,'' she told Steve, ''and it would be so much easier to just drop off and keep on screaming...''

''That's when you reach for my hand and hold on as tightly as you can,'' he answered. ''I'll keep you from falling; I promise.''

* * *

So far, Jack Hansen and Frank Morrisey had only been able to get the most rudimentary, basic statements from Jaime about her time in the cabin. Most of it, she didn't remember...or didn't want to talk about. Not with Jack or Frank - and not with Oscar, Mark or Steve either. She had clammed up, almost completely. Finally, Mark thought he might have an idea - a way to reach her.

''Cookies, Doc?'' Steve wondered if the good doctor had lost _his _mind. They were seated together in Mark's office at National and Mark had just revealed his latest 'prescription' for Jaime.

''Not just any cookies; if I remember from when we were in the bunker together, those big soft chocolate chip pecan cookies are Jaime's favorites,'' Mark recalled.

''Well yeah, but -''

''An excellent boost for her spirit.''

''The bakery is all the way in Ojai!''

Mark nodded...and smiled. ''And I want you to _personally _pick out the softest, most chip-speckled ones you can possibly find!''

''Gee Doc, if you want me to get lost...just say so,'' Steve chuckled.

''I want you to get lost. For at least a few hours. Cookies would be an added bonus. Oh...and bring some for Jaime too!''

* * *

''Where's Steve?'' Jaime asked as soon as Mark walked into her room without him.

''I thought there might be things you'd like - no, that you _need_- to talk about without Steve here,'' Mark explained. Jaime suddenly found a lint ball on her blanket to be the most fascinating thing in the world...and Mark knew he was right. ''I could tell you what I think, but that's like ripping a band-aid off before the patient is ready. I'd rather have it come from you.''

''You want me to tell you...what a rotten person I am?'' Jaime began. Mark sat down and waited silently. ''Fine! I caused all of this. That's right - me! At least that's what Michael said...and maybe he was right! If I hadn't kissed him - right here in this room - then none of this would've happened! I know what you're gonna say, Mark. You're gonna say he probably had an idea in his head before that. And you know what? From the way I caught him looking at me more than once, you'd probably be right! But I didn't have to go and do what I did, either! So it's _still_ my fault! And that's only the start of it! I insisted on going to see Michael at the NSB, even when Steve told me it wasn't a good idea. Then I was dumb enough to fall for that choking routine...and I got taken. 'Cause of my own stupid mistake! Don't try telling me it was because I felt _compassion_ toward him, either - since I know you'd say that, Mark! It was a dumb mistake! MY dumb mistake! Then I...I _encouraged _him, when he had me up in that cabin! Even when I knew Steve was listening, even knowing how much it would hurt him to listen! There had to have been something else I could've tried! I should've found some other way!''

Tears formed in her eyes but Jaime angrily brushed them away. Mark continued to sit quietly (since she probably would've kept on going if he'd tried to talk at that point anyhow).

''I told Michael that _I loved him_! That I'd do anything to be with him! I might as well have taken a knife and stuck it straight in Steve's heart! How could I have said those things? How could I have _kissed _him - more than once or twice - and none-too-gently, either! Yeah, I was leading him on to save my own life, but doesn't that make me the definition of a coward? Especially when my own husband is on the other end of a speaker, hearing every word! I took the easy way out! I should've just let Michael kill me! I wish I had! Steve...doesn't deserve...what I put him through...''

Mark sensed that she was done, at least for the moment. ''Would you like to know what I think Steve deserved most of all? He deserved to hear that his wife was safe, alive and coming back home into his arms. That other stuff...the stuff over the speaker? Survival Mode; nothing more. Steve knows that - and I think you do too. The 'easy way out'? That would've been to give up and die - and you didn't do that. Not only did you survive - which by the way an extremely intelligent doctor has already told you means you did it right - but you also got a full confession. You deserve to be as proud of yourself as I know for a fact that Steve is.''

''Maybe someday...''

''We can work on that,'' Mark promised. ''You've given me a lot to pick apart here, but let's see if we can't at least start untangling it all...''

By the time Steve arrived with the purple, silver and white-striped box, they'd made an excellent start.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

It had taken Steve the entire drive to the bakery in Ojai and half of the drive back before he realized that in sending him on an errand, Mark had been treating him as well as his wife. He could've asked Steve to wait in his office while he met privately with Jaime, but sending him into the outside world got him _out _of the hospital environment - and its mindset - completely...out from under the cold fluorescent lights and into the warm sunshine. He didn't worry about his wife any less, but Steve was outside of his own head, outside of the hospital walls and doing something that might help Jaime (at least a little), even if he himself didn't see the purpose.

When he returned, he could see that Jaime had been crying - hard...and probably for most of the two hours he'd been gone. Steve's heart ached for the obvious pain she was in, and he cursed Marchetti (and Kingsley) for doing this to her. Jaime seemed reluctant to meet his eyes but when she spotted the familiar box in his hands, she managed a slight smile.

''Okay if I come in?'' Steve asked tentatively.

Jaime nodded. ''Are those...?''

''I'll get us all some coffee,'' Mark offered, slipping out of the room.

Steve set the box on the bedside table and kissed his wife. ''Are you...alright?'' he asked, tenderly brushing the last of her tears from Jaime's cheeks.

''Yeah. Well...I will be. I hope. Steve, I...I'm sorry.''

Steve sat on the side of the bed and swept Jaime into his arms. She was still trembling slightly from the effort she'd put into the last two hours with Mark. ''Sweetheart, you haven't done anything you need to be sorry for,'' he told her, holding her close. ''I know how hard it was for you, having to get closer to Michael, just to _survive_. And you did everything right. Do you hear me?'' He drew back slightly, to gaze into Jaime's eyes and make certain she understood. ''_You did it right_.''

''What you heard...what I said...and _did_...it wasn't...real.''

''I know,'' Steve soothed. He could see Jaime's eyes drawing away from his gaze, once again reliving the horrors of the past. He reached over to the table and grabbed a slice of lemon. ''Bite,'' he said firmly. This time, the lemon and his gentle embrace were enough; Jaime was able to come right 'back'. Steve was still holding her, gently rubbing her back, when Mark returned with the coffee.

The doctor was quick to notice the used piece of lemon - but was gratified to see Jaime was fully 'present'...and allowing her husband to take care of her. He took a seat and waited patiently until they were ready for him. When they broke their full embrace and turned to face him, they remained united with Steve's arm still gently encircling Jaime's waist as her head rested on his shoulder. Mark smiled and opened the purple box, took out two cookies and placed them within reach on the table. He had a point to make.

''My favorite,'' Jaime said softly.

''Delicious, right?'' Mark agreed. ''What makes them so good?''

Jaime leaned into Steve's chest, loving the way his hand felt as he ran his fingers through her hair. His touch was calming for her...now that she allowed it to be. ''Well,'' she began, eying the cookie, ''they use the very best chocolate, imported pecans, real butter...'' She started to take one...and Mark moved it just slightly out of her reach. Jaime looked quizzically at him.

Mark began crumbling one of the cookies into very small pieces. ''Suppose we break it apart,'' he suggested, moving the chunks of chocolate into one pile and the pecan halves into another.

''That's blasphemy,'' Steve told him. He was already having a 'light bulb' moment, 'getting' what Mark was up to.

''Do we still have a cookie?'' Mark queried.

''You don't,'' Steve told him. ''Because that one was yours.''

''Work with me here, would you please?'' Mark chuckled. ''Jaime...?''

''Might not be a cookie anymore...but it's still the best chocolate...imported pecans...and _delicious_.''

Mark swept the pieces into his hand (eating a few of them as he went)...and replaced them with another cookie. ''So what you're saying is that even though these pieces are wonderful all on their own - the best there is, in fact - this cookie is more than the sum of its parts.''

''I get it,'' Jaime told him, her tense body finally beginning to relax. ''Can I have one now?''

* * *

They had turned an important corner. While Jaime continued to have nightmares, Steve was right there to comfort her and ease her back to sleep. The flashbacks in the daytime grew less frequent and (with Jaime no longer reluctant or ashamed to lean on her husband) a little easier to pull out of. She was able to give Hansen and Morrisey a complete statement and began working with them, with an eye toward the upcoming Tribunal. Finally, after just over a week in the hospital, she was ready to go home. Her strength was still (gradually) returning as her body recovered from the physical trauma, but with Steve's loving assistance and a helping hand from her team of doctors, she would be alright.

Jaime insisted on walking (and _not_ being wheeled) out the big double doors and into the car...with a fresh box of cookies on her lap as they headed for _home_.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

The conference room was set up to look as much like the Tribunal chambers as possible. For this rehearsal, Hansen, Oscar and Russ sat on one side, with two empty chairs where Michael and his attorney would be - and a space behind them where the judge would sit at his platform. Morrisey waited on the other side of the table with Mark, for Steve to bring Jaime in. Over by the far wall (where they would be during the actual Tribunal), Doctor Corinth sat with Rudy. He'd also (finally) been released from the hospital and was here at his own insistence, with special permission from his cardiologist.

''Is she ready for this?'' Morrisey wondered.

''I hope so,'' Mark told him. ''As ready as I can get her; we've talked about it, casually run through it...but this will be her first true test.''

''With the Tribunal tomorrow, it's the only 'test' she gets,'' the attorney noted. ''And while we have the recording - Marchetti's confession - we still _have_ to have her testimony. And even if we don't call her, the Defense will.'' Somehow, for whatever their cruel, perverse reasoning might be, Michael and his lawyer intended to call Jaime for _their _side...if the Prosecution didn't call her first. Either way, she would be forced to take the stand.

Jaime's head was held high as she walked into the conference room on her husband's arm. If one looked closely at her face, she was clearly frightened but also doing her best to hide it.

''Mes. Austin,'' Hansen began (playing the part of the defense attorney for this practice session), ''isn't it true that three years ago you carried on an affair with the defendant while he was still acting as your doctor?''

Jaime faced him and looked him directly in the eyes. ''It was never a conventional 'affair', since we never slept together, but -''

''Stop,'' Morrisey told her. ''Never offer more information than the attorney asks you for. Try again, please.''

''We were together,'' Jaime responded, ''but no, it was never an 'affair'.''

Morrisey nodded...and smiled at her.

''Mrs. Austin, did you try to carry on this affair - to re-ignite it - when you _kissed _my client from your hospital bed, several weeks ago?''

''Yes. I mean, no!'' Jaime turned to Steve, trying to fight off her own tears. Steve gave her hand a reassuring squeeze...and she went on, carefully but firmly answering each of Hansen's (and then Morrisey's) questions and trying her best to steel herself for what she'd be facing the next morning.

* * *

That night, Jaime snuggled closer to Steve as he drew the covers around them and then took her into his arms. Their eyes met...and soon their bodies did too, clinging to each other as they slowly and very sweetly made love. Afterward, Steve cradled Jaime in his arms as she drifted off to sleep. His heart was breaking for her, knowing that wounds that had not yet fully healed would likely be ripped open and laid bare. This night, there were no nightmares. He only hoped tomorrow night would be the same.

* * *

The mood in the judge's chamber was somber. Jaime sat on the Prosecution's side of the table between Morrisey and Oscar (who were flanked by Hansen and Russ, respectively). They faced down Michael's team of attorney's and legal aides (on the other side of the table) and the judge's platform was at the head. By very special permission, Rudy, Mark and Doctor Corinth flanked the wall in their chairs at the other end of the table from the platform. All three were already eying Jaime closely. There could never be enough time to adequately prepare _anyone _for what Jaime was about to face, but along with Steve, Oscar and the Prosecutor, they'd done the best they could.

She was very pale and looked slightly lost without Steve's reassuring presence. (As a potential witness himself, Michael's team had demanded he not be allowed to be in the chamber...and their motion had been granted.) Mark thought to himself that Jaime's eyes reflected fear but also something else - _determination_. She was nobody's victim - not anymore - and today would be her chance to prove it, once and for all.

The bailiff announced Judge Rafferty...and all who were present rose and then sat down again together. Then...it was time. Jaime shuddered slightly, knowing what (and _who_) was coming next.

The side door opened and Michael was led in (in full shackles) between two armed and very burly-looking Officers of the Court. He struggled angrily, trying to shake them off and make his own way into the room but their grip on his arms was firm. They remained standing directly behind him after putting him in his chair - immediately across from Jaime. Jaime swallowed hard and steeled herself to look up and face him...and Michael's eyes were as cold and hard as they'd been in her nightmares - except now they were directly in front of her and very, _very_ real. Michael's tongue lolled from his mouth as he very slowly (and tauntingly) licked his lips - lips that then twisted into a mocking sneer. For him, this was going to be _fun_.

* * *

END of EPISODE 14. Story continues with EPISODE 15, immediately to follow. (SEASON FINALE!)


End file.
